A New Light
by IloveBumbleBee2009
Summary: Helen, Pendergast's dear wife, had been the sole source of light in the FBI agents life, and when that light was snuffed out, his world became very black. But will a new sourse of lighht be found? Not a Pen/OS fic. Set between Relicquary and CoC.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: I know the poor man doesnt get enough attention, but I freaking LOVE Pendergast! He is so awesome! I do not own, sadly, cuz if I did, I would be keeping him all to myself MUAHAHAHAHAHA! Enjoy!**

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><p>Vincent D'agosta, all things considered, was having a great day. He had arrived in New Orleans three hours ago to visit his friend Pendergast and had ate a wonderful Cajun lunch with a glass of local beer (waiting an hour before driving, of course), and was now headed to Pendergast's house. Granted, his eccentric friend lived half out in the boonies, but that was forgivable since the scenery was beautiful. He was even an hour early. D'agosta took another quick look at the map Pendergast had emailed him and took another turn.<p>

Pendergast's sure got it good out here, the lucky bastard, D'agosta thought with a smile. Soon the huge old-style mansion came into view. Proctor, Pendergast's butler, was talking to another man who seemed to be a gardener. The gardener excused himself when D'agosta pulled up.

"Hello Mr. D'agosta," Proctor bowed politely as D'agosta stepped out of his car. "Mr. Pendergast is inside, if you will follow me." D'agosta followed Proctor past the huge front doors and through the opulent manor. D'agosta found the manor was just as he imagined it - as fancy and eccentric as the FBI agent himself. Proctor stopped inside a tastefully sparse drawing room, where D'agosta saw Pendergast, black Italian suit and all (did the man own any other clothes?), doing something with a few filing boxes of what looked like paperwork (_So he _does_ do paperwork,_ D'agosta thought). Proctor politely ducked out of the room as Pendergast stood up, smoothing his suit.

"Ah, Vincent!' Pendergast smiled, "I'm so glad you could make it. I trust your trip was pleasant?"

"Yeah, great, actually. You live in a hell of a place, Pendergast; much more beautiful than New York."

"Thank you," Pendergast looked delighted.

"What's with the boxes?" D'agosta gestured to the large boxes on the floor. There were six of them, all full to bursting, with dividers to apparently separate the different types of paperwork.

"Ah, that's just old document's I've been re-filing. I meant to have this put away before you arrived, but I hadn't anticipated you being so early."

"Sorry about that. Need any help with it?"

"That's not necessary; the filing is finished." D'agosta insisted on at least helping put the boxes away. Pendergast smiled and thanked him as the each carried a box out of the room and down the hall. The boxes were heavy as hell, and from what D'agosta could tell, they contained everything Pendergast could possibly have documented; one chunk of the box he was carrying had copies of old case files, another had things like birth and death certificates, marriage licenses and the occasional divorce license, documents of legal insanity, and on and on and on. It took half an hour to move all six boxes. As they came back to the drawing room, D'agosta spotted something on the floor; a single envelope, slightly yellowed with age. D'agosta picked it up off the floor.

"Hey, Pendergast, I think something fell out of one of the boxes." He looked at the front. I was addressed to Pendergast, but had never been opened. "The date says 1997."

"Six years ago, a year after I got married…" Pendergast looked a bit perplexed. "But I've never seen this envelope before." D'agosta handed Pendergast the envelope, a bit sad for his friend, who had lost his dear wife to some sort of accident. Pendergast was about to open the envelope when Proctor alerted them that dinner was ready. Pendergast slipped the envelope in his suit's inner pocket.

"I shall read this later. For now, let's eat." D'agosta nodded and followed Pendergast out of the room, wondering what in the world could be in the strange, six-year-old envelope.

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><p><strong>I wonder whats in the envelope DUN DUN DUN. Lol, review please!<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**A New Light Ch 2**

By IloveBumbleBee2009

D'agosta and Pendergast sat in the drawing room, their fancy French meal finished, both drinking their personal choice of alcohol. Proctor had brought them their drinks and disappeared again, leaving them to chat about old times and how life had been treating them. They had talked for almost three hours before D'agosta remembered their earlier discovery.

"By the way, what about the envelope?"

"Ah, yes, I had forgotten!" Pendergast set aside his glass of wine and took out the envelope. Picking up a letter opener from the end table, Pendergast slit open the top and removed a letter written on heavy stationary. It was very similar to the kind Pendergast himself used, which struck D'agosta as a tad odd. As D'agosta watched, Pendergast's face went from curious, to confused, to shock, to hollow-gut stunned. His face seemed even paler than usual, if such a thing were possible. Pendergast suddenly rose and summoned Proctor.

"Yes sir?" Proctor asked as he entered the room.

"Proctor, first thing in the morning, I want you to take us the to corner of Canal and Bourbon Street." D'agosta nearly chocked on his drink. Canal Street was a main road in New Orleans, and, well, everyone knew what Bourbon street was. _What could Pendergast want on freaking _Bourbon Street_? _D'agosta wondered. Proctor looked just as confused but simply said 'of course sir' and ducked out. Pendergast say down, looking like a man who just got sucker punched in the gut.

"Are you okay?" D'agosta asked.

"Six years old… I never knew… how could I…" Pendergast looked short of breath, as though his whole world just died on him.

"What's wrong? What didn't you know?" Pendergast didn't answer, simply handed him the letter, looking numb. D'agosta took the letter and read it. His jaw dropped.

"Oh shit…"

"It Helen's handwriting… I would recognize it anywhere… but… Vincent, I _must_ see for myself."

"I understand, Pendergast. Jesus, I understand. You want me to come with you?"

"I hope you will, Vincent. I… I'm not so sure I could face this myself."

"Then I'm definitely going with you. But what will you do?"

"I don't know, Vincent. For once, I have honestly no idea what to do. I only know I must go." D'agosta gave his friend a comforting pat on the shoulder. He never imagined this would happen-to anyone-but he was behind his friend all the way.

Later that night, as Pendergast was turning in for the night, he found himself unable to sleep. His mind was still reeling from the letter, which now rested on his nightstand. He had read it over at ;least five times, still unable to grasp what the words told him. His gut was a dead weight. In truth, it really shouldn't have been that big of a deal. And to someone else, it may not have been. But it was a huge deal for him. And nothing in his life had prepared him for this.

_After all,_ Pendergast mused,_ How does one face the daughter they never knew they had?_


	3. Chapter 3

**A New Light Ch 3**

By IloveBumbleBee2009

Six-year-old Bridgid Pendergast woke from her sleep early in the morning to the sounds of someone shouting her name. Tossing off her tee-shirt quilt, she padded to her open widow on the second floor of the Star of Hope Orphanage and looked outside. The sight that greeted her was the same she had seen all her life; the yard, filled with toys, leaves and patches of mud, the tall wooden fence trying in vain to block out the sights, sounds and smells emanating from the famous Bourbon Street. Most were horrified that that an orphanage was located on Bourbon Street, but Star of Hope had been here first, and technically it was on Canal Street, anyway. Beyond the fence was her three best friends, 16-year-old Austin, who was more of a brother than a friend, 14-year-old Shaun, who taught her Karate, and 17-year-old Derrick, who taught her all about video-games.

"C'mon, B, grab your board and lets go!" Austin called.

"Be right down, dudes!" Bri called back, shutting her window. She quickly threw on a pair of Converse, ripped up jeans and an old belt, a t-shirt, and an oversized black-and-purple stripped hoodie before going to the bathroom. Bri brushed her teeth and rubbed sun block on her skin (_When you're paler than death, sunburn really sucks_, she thought) before brushing her short, bobbed, white-blond hair and tying a purple ribbon in it. Bri grabbed her Jack Skeleton messenger bag and her lime green skateboard, hooking the later onto the back of her belt, and ran downstairs to meet her friends, pulling her hood on and throwing her pale silvery-blue eyes into shadow.

"Yo, B, there you are!" Shaun called, rubbing her head. Bri laughed and pushed his hand away.

"Get off me, man! So, what's the plot, today?"

"Trash the skate park!" Derrick laughed. The group whooped in excitement before skating off at top speed, ready to shame each other on the ramps.

Three hours later, Bri and her friends were sitting on the sidewalk of Canal, laughing and joking while sucking down slurpies. Bri was sporting a new scrape on her cheek (Not to self: Skateboard + Tennis Ball = Bad) but that didn't dampen her spirits. Finished with her slurpie, Bri started to skate across the road to buy another. Absently she heard the purr of a car.

"Oh my God-!"

"BRI, LOOK OUT!"

Bri whipped her head around just in time to see a large white car looming almost on top of her.


	4. Chapter 4

**A New Light Ch 4 **

By IloveBumbleBee2009

D'agosta and Pendergast braced themselves against the front seats of Pendergast's swank Rolls-Royce as the car suddenly slammed to a halt. Before D'agosta could ask why the hell Proctor had stomped on the brakes, they all heard a sickening crunch, and voices yelling.

"Proctor, what happened?" Pendergast cried.

"A child ran out into the road!"

_Oh God, we hit a kid,_ D'agosta felt his blood run cold at the thought of a helpless child crushed under the massive Rolls. The three of them scrambled out of the car as three teen boys with skateboards ran up and knelt in front of the car. As he hurried over, D'agosta saw the tiny form of a child in a black and purple hoodie laying on the ground. The child - a boy, from what D'agosta could tell - slowly pushed himself up onto his hands and knees. Blood dripped rapidly onto the asphalt; the boys hand came up to cup his nose.

_Oh hell, the kid's hurt,_ D'agosta mentally whined. One of the teenagers with brown hair and green eyes pulled a bandana from his back pocket and tilted up the boys head, mopping up the blood.

"Are you okay, B?" he asked.

"I'm fine, dude, just busted my nose." The older boy set aside the now blood-soaked bandana, the younger boys nose bleed having slowed down some.

"Drop the hood, let me see how bad it is." The younger boy reached up to remove the large, heavy hood.

The first thing that registered after the shock of the blood was the child's skin; smooth, young, slightly dirty, but pale. So pale it almost appeared to be the hand of an albino, or a corpse.

As the small pale hand pulled down the hood, D'agosta saw the eyes, so big and innocent and light up with childishness - but also a piercing, pale silver-blue that seemed to see right through you.

And as the hood fell away, D'agosta was met with a bob of smooth, shiny hair, neatly combed with a purple ribbon tied on one side, that was so very blonde it looked almost white. The little girl looked up and met D'agosta's gaze.

Beside him, Pendergast let out a low gasp of shock - and recognition.


	5. Chapter 5

_**A New Light Ch 5**_

_By I loveBumbleBee2009_

_For a moment, Pendergast stared at the little girl in stunned silence. It was her, he was certain of it. His precious bay girl. Even without the very obvious family resemblance, the girls eyes - strangely intelligent and wise for her age - told him all he needed to know of her heritage. And to think, all this time, she had been right here, all but staring him in the face, awaiting discovery…_

"_Excuse me, sir, but why are you staring at me like I got three heads?" Pendergast abandoned his musings to find the girl, her friends, and Vincent looking expectantly at him. _

"_My apologies, miss," he replied, sidestepping the question, not ready to reveal who he was. "Are you injured?" One of the girls friends helped her up; she dusted off her jacket and wiped away a stray bit of blood._

"_No, but I think your driver killed my board." She pointed to the right front tire of the Rolls, grimacing disappointedly. There, a line green skateboard had been crushed into a V-shape under the tire._

_A skateboard,_ Pendergast mentally sighed with relief. _I was only a skateboard._

"I'm glad you're alright," For a moment, Pendergast forgot that the girl didn't know who he was. "What's your name?"

"Who the hell wants to know?" She remarked insolently. Pendergast inwardly hit himself on the forehead. As ridiculous as he felt, he was glad she had the sense not to give vital information to a stranger, even if her vocabulary shouldn't be used by children.

"I'm police honey," Vincent interjected quickly, showing his badge. "So don't worry about the talking-to-strangers thing."

"A New York Officer, I notice. But the name is Bridgid." Bridgid's voice was much more respectful now. "These are Shaun, Austin and Derrick."

"What can we do for you, sir?" The boy named Shaun asked.

"We'd like to know where we might find one "Star of Hope Orphanage'." Pendergast hoped the kids would keep cooperating with the little white lie, as he would rather not have to explain he was Bridgid's estranged father on the side of Canal street. The four were apparently plenty willing to help, and began to lead to way down the road after Bridgid retrieved her 'completely fricking' trashed' skateboard and Pendergast, proctor and Vincent got in the Rolls (which got many 'holy crap!' looks from the kids).

"How are you going to tell Bridgid you're her father?" Vincent asked as Proctor drove.

"When I figure that out, Vincent, I will be sure to tell you."


	6. Chapter 6

**A New Light Ch 6**

By I loveBumbleBee2009

"Dudes, did you SEE the blond guy?" Bri laughed as she and her friends walked home, the three men in the Rolls following behind them. "He looked like a cross between an undertaker and the lovechild of a CIA Agent and the white guy from Men In Black!" Shaun, Derrick and Austin howled with laughter.

"Actually B," Shaun chuckled, "He looks like you."

"Yeah, he did…" Derrick looked thoughtful.

"Hey!" Austin snapped his fingers as a thought occurred to him. "Maybe the blond guy is your dad! He looks exactly like you."

"Don't be crazy, Austin," Bri rolled her eyes, trying not to get defensive on the touchy subject of her parents. "There is no proof that man is my father. It doesn't matter that he looks like me; Shaun and Miss Nancy are both black, but that doesn't make her his mother, does it?"

"Okay, fair point." By now they had reached the gate to Star of Hope; Austin opened the latch and Derrick and Shaun pushed the gate wide. The Rolls slipped by, purring loudly, and pulled into a parking space as the kids closed and locked the gate again. Pendergast and D'agosta - Proctor stayed in the Rolls - followed the children to the front door. Pendergast prayed he would be able to regain custody of Bridgid; he didn't want to consider he wouldn't be able to keep his baby.

"Gentlemen, welcome to Star of Hope," Austin said, as the two walked in. Bri, can you go find Miss Nancy?"

"On it" Bri ran off and came back with a young black woman in a pair of jeans and a blouse. She was gently pushing Bridgid towards a set of stairs.

"Third skateboard in a month, Bri, I don't know how you do it. Of with you, now, go change clothes."

"Yes ma'am," Bri said and ran upstairs with her broken skateboard. The black woman smiled at Pendergast and D'agosta.

"Hello, sirs, I'm Miss Nancy. May I help you?" Pendergast stepped forward a bit.

"Miss Nancy, is there a place my colleague and I may talk with you in private?"

"Certainly, we can talk in my office. Follow me, please," Miss Nancy lead them through the building to a backroom. As they went Pendergast and D'agosta saw the main room, a huge area full of toys and couches and beanbag chairs and videogames and all else, the kitchen, which appeared to be just as well stocked with food, and at least thirty children of varying ages, running around, joking, playing, and having fun; all noise from the children stopped as they past, and didn't start again until they were gone.

"Would you gentlemen care for anything to drink?" Miss Nancy asked as she closed the door behind them.

"No thank you, ma'am, " Pendergast and D'agosta sat down. Miss Nancy sat opposite them behind a large industrial desk.

"Before you begin, sirs, I must ask what your business is; adoption, foster care?"

"Something along those lines, ma'am. Allow me to introduce myself; I am Special Agent Pendergast, and this is Lieutenant D'agosta." Miss Nancy smiled.

"Ah, I had been wondering when you would come."

"Pardon?"

"Allow me to explain, Mr. Pendergast; six years ago, a young woman came to Star of Hope carrying a newborn baby girl in her arms. The woman looked frightened and sad when she asked me to keep the baby here, not as a child to be adopted out or sent to a foster home, but to give her a place to live. I didn't understand why she asked me to do this, but I agreed. The woman filled out all necessary paperwork to have the baby left under my care. She signed her name as Helen Pendergast and the baby as Bridgid Pendergast. Mrs. Pendergast told me Bri's father may be back to claim her, and to not refuse him the baby. Before she left, Mrs. Pendergast gave Bri a golden locket with her picture and yours in it, which Bri still wears today. For these past six years, I, and Bri, have been waiting for you to come her and get her." Pendergast was clearly having trouble keeping it cool.

"I can hardly believe this…" Miss Nancy pulled a file out of the desk.

"This is Bri's file; we keep records on every child for the sake of possible adoptive parents." Pendergast opened said file. Inside was six year old papers for Bri's release to the orphanage, along with a picture and profile of Bri; some of the things listed was her hobbies, which was video games, Karate and skateboarding, and her food preference, which was Vegetarian. Miss Nancy got the paperwork for Bri's release ready.

"Miss Nancy, might I ask that we stay for a while longer? I would like to speak to Bri and actually get to know her before I tell her who I am."

"That's perfectly fine, Mr. Pendergast. I'll have the paperwork right here when you're ready." Miss Nancy lead them back to the main room. D'agosta could see a hint of fear in his friends eyes, and said a silent prayer, hoping Bri would be glad that her father was here to get her.


	7. Chapter 7

**A New Light Ch 7**

By I loveBumbleBee2009

Bri sat on the couch in the game room of Star of Hope, an Element skateboard without wheels in her lap, the wheels from her broken skateboard next to her, and a skateboard wrench in her hand. Shaun, Austin and Derrick were in the room with her (as usual), either sitting on beanbag chairs or hooking up the Play Station 2 so they could play Resident Evil 4.

"Dudes, if I trash this board, I am so royally screwed!" she told her friends as she put the wheels on the trucks of her skateboard and put in the bearings.

"No worries, B, you never break a board. At least not so that it's actually your fault." Derrick answered a little distractedly.

"Maybe that dude with the Rolls will be nice and repay you for it," Shaun suggested, not realizing Pendergast and D'agosta just walked in.

"If he does, it won't be because I asked him," Bri stretched, her new board put together. "Wonder who the dude is, anyhow." Austin shrugged, handing Derrick a few game controls.

"Got to be someone important. With a car and suit like that, he must have more money than his whole fam-damn-ly knows what to do with." Pendergast and D'agosta shared an amused look. "Wonder what he does, assuming he didn't get the money from an inheritance or something."

"I'm an FBI Agent, Austin." The four kids jumped with a cry, turning to look at Pendergast.

"Jeez you scared us!" Derrick cried, gasping.

"Sorry, sir, we didn't mean to be rude." Shaun rubbed the back of is head.

"It's fine."

"Mind if we hang out with you guys?" D'agosta asked.

"Hey, no problem," Bri said, hopping over so that they could sit down. Pendergast sat next to Bri, and D'agosta next to him. Bri was almost bouncing in her seat, even after Derrick had handed her the game controller. This was to her as meeting Orlando Bloom is to the average teen girl. Bri was fascinated by FBI work and had books on famous cases - she couldn't read a lot of it, but that didn't stop her enthusiasm. Going to Quantico and becoming an FBI was her dream, and now she was sitting next to the real deal. Pendergast looked over to Bri as she half stumbled to start the game as D'agosta talked to Shaun and Derrick.

"Are you okay, Bridgid?"

"Please, call me Bri, and I'm great, actually," Bri smiled at him.

"She's trying not to fan-faint because she's wanted to be an FBI for freaking ever." Austin explained, earning him an embarrassed thump from Bri. D'agosta had to swallow a laugh; this was DEFINITELY Pendergast's daughter.

"I'm glad you're interested in FBI work. By the way," Pendergast pulled something out of his pocket. It was a hundred dollar bill. "As an apology for the earlier accident." Bri was stunned as she accepted the bill. She had never seen a hundred dollar bill in her life. She had never seen a hundred dollars period.

"Thank you!" She grinned. Pendergast and D'agosta watched the kids play Resident Evil, inwardly wondering how they found gory zombie killing to be entertaining. They all chatted as they played, the kids tossing playful insults and trash talk to each other and opinions on how the game could be improved ("It needs to be first-person shooter with gun controller compatibility," Bri said, to the agreement of her friends). The kids didn't ask them why the wanted to hang out with them; Austin, Shaun and Derrick still suspected Pendergast was Bri's dad, and Bri was having too much fun blowing zombie heads off to care what their reasons were.

After the kids had gotten tired of blowing up zombie brains, they took D'agosta and Pendergast on a mini-tour of their home. They listened as the kids talked about what an average day, introducing a few other children, was for them until Miss Nancy called everyone for lunch. Bri was teased for not eating meat for lunch, but she blew it off with a snaky comeback.

"Mikki, leave B alone and eat your food and let her eat hers." Mikki dropped the subject and the meal was peaceful, at least as far as arguments went. No meal is entirely peaceful when there's 40+ children of varying ages eating.

After lunch, several kids, including Bri and her friends headed outside to play. D'agosta, Pendergast, and Miss Nancy sat outside, sipping tea, discussing the latest news, including the string of kidnappings of children, which had Miss Nancy worried about the kids, and what Pendergast needs to know before he reclaims Bri.

"Does Bri have any, ah, problems?"

"Problems?" Miss Nancy asked, a little confused.

"Anything medically, emotionally, physically, or mentally wrong with her?"

"You mean 'is she crazy'?" D'agosta asked, not sure why Pendergast would ask that.

"Not crazy, specifically, but as an example." Pendergast sipped his tea.

"Bri often jokes about being crazy, sir, but she's quite sane. She doesn't have anything WRONG with her," Miss Nancy hesitated a moment. "She does have some… odd quirks, however."

"Like what?" D'agosta asked.

"Well… she occasionally talks to herself. Not in a 'I need to remember to do this' sort of way, but she will say something, wait like someone's replying and then say something else. I just chalk it up to having an imaginary friend. She also seems to go out of her way to avoid the letter 'X' in black, which I can't explain, and she will very obviously go out of her way to avoid getting blood in her mouth. She claims the taste makes her sick to her stomach. What I find the strangest is that the whole time she's had her locket, she's never once opened it."

"Never?" D'agosta asked.

"Never. Not once. Not even on accident."

"Hmmm… very odd…" Pendergast mused. He couldn't remember where he had heard it or what had been being discussed, but blood, black X's and talking to oneself sounded familiar. But what concerned him more was the tidbit about Bri's locket. She hadn't opened it. Why? Was she ashamed since she had been put in the orphanage? Did she hate him and her late mother, even though she had never met them? And if she did, what would he do?

Their talk was interrupted by Bri running up, hair sweaty and pushed back, face flushed, a basketball in her hand.

"Miss Nancy can we play basketball with the trampoline?"

"Of course not, Derrick broke his leg when you played without permission." She answered.

"Told you so, dudes!" Bri called, tossing the ball to Austin. Pendergast caught a glimpse of gold around Bri's neck'; her locket had fallen out of her shirt and rested against the 'I Do All My Own Stunts' slogan of her shirt. It was thumb-print-sized and round, with intricate rose patterns etched into the surface. Pendergast thought about asking her about the locket, but thought better of it. Bri dropped the locket back in her shirt with a look in her eye that said she didn't want to discuss it.

The rest of the day pasted pleasantly. It was just reaching eight o'clock when Miss Nancy started sending the youngest children to bed. Pendergast suddenly spotted Bri, in an admittedly odd position; she was laying on the sofa with her legs over the backrest, her arms flopped onto the floor and her head half under the couch. She was fast asleep.

"Ah, yes, I had forgot to mention Bri will fall asleep in the strangest places," Miss Nancy giggles and picked Bri up. Bri grunted and burrowed into Miss Nancy's neck. Pendergast smiled and Miss Nancy put Bri to bed.

"She's a cute kid," D'agosta smiled.

"Yes she is. I just hope she will be happy when I bring her home tomorrow."

"Me too, Pendergast. Me too."


	8. Chapter 8

2:30 AM. Bri woke from her sleep and got out of bed, throwing on her jeans under her Black Sabbath T-shirt, her hoodie over her shirt, and tugged on her socks and Converse. Ducking under her bed, she pulled out a box with an assortment of odd items in it. Of these, she pulled out a voice recorded and a fresh cassette, which she put in her jacket pocket, a black-handled straight razor, which she slipped into her high-topped shoes, a tube of black paint went into her other jacket pocket, and a baggie of sterile wipes and Band-Aids went into her jeans pocket. No one knew she had these items, and Bri preferred to keep it that way.

She put the box away and, quick as a flash, darted silently out of her bedroom. Bri kept to the carpet closest to the walls, avoiding the areas of the house that squeaked. She knew the building so well, and had done this so often, the act of getting downstairs without making a sound was simplicity itself. She snuck to the front door of the building, purloined the spare key Miss Nancy kept tucked into a gape in the dry wall, unlocked the door, slipped out, and relocked it behind her. Bri put the key in her jeans pocket and scurried to the trampoline in the yard, climbing on and starting to bounce. Soon she was high enough, and with a lunge on the next bounce, she had vaulted over the fence and tumbled onto the grass beyond. Bri scrambled to her feet and, making sure she still had everything, flew like a Wraith into the night towards St. Louis Cemetery.

In her heart, a black presence roused itself from its dormancy and rejoiced for the dark act she had to commit.

Bri collapsed onto a newly dug grave, the wet soil rich in her nose. The being in her heart, which she called Shadow, sang; this was where it wanted to be, surrounded by the bodies of the dead and the powerful bouquet of a fresh grave. The smell calmed an ache in Bri, one that was not entirely her own, but the feeling would not be gone until she had finished her contribution. Over hear head, a full moon cast its silvery glow onto the Earth.

2:45 AM. It was almost time. Bri wished she day could skip right over the upcoming hour. She wished she didn't have to do this ritual every few months. Bri wished a lot of thing, but she didn't hold onto the hope of them happening. It was one of the reasons she didn't wait, as some of the children did, for her birth parents to suddenly claim her. It wasn't her way.

2:50 AM. Bri sat up, using a sterile wipe to clean off her hands.. She put the fresh tape into her recorder and set it on the headstone with her Band-Aids and her black paint, and took out her straight razor. She opened it; the blade gleamed in the moonlight, the edge winking at her tauntingly. She hated the blade, but she would need it very soon.

2:55 AM. Bri used the sterile wipes to clean her hands and turned to face the headstone. The rock said 'Amanda Wright', but who she was on top of hardly mattered; the stone would be her altar tonight. She turned on her voice recorder.

"Bri Pendergast, 2:57 AM, St. Louis Cemetery. Blood Feeding soon to begin. Shadow eager but patient as ever.. Hands and straight razor sterile. Grave belongs to Amanda Wright. God help me." Bri always did this before her ritual. She needed proof, if only for herself, that she wasn't crazy, and that the wraiths she was soon to hear were not all in her head.

3:00 AM. The Witching Hour. Bri felt her whole world change, the low drone of disembodied voices she always heard rose in volume and pitch until they were shrieking in her ears. Her body grew chilled and energy almost visibly crackled around her as Shadow began to take his control of her form for the feeding. It was time.

Bri started chanting, using words she never learned yet knew by heart, because Shadow knew. As she chanted, she put the black paint on her fingers and slowly, methodically, drew a diagonal line across the headstone. Picking up her chanting, she drew another, until the lines formed a thick, ugly black 'X' on the stone. She was chanting rapidly now, the wraiths were screeching ever louder, and Shadow was practically cackling with joy.

Bri raised her hands, the straight razor glinting, even chanting. The black 'X' before her almost glowed.

Heart pounding harder but unable to refuse Shadow's needs, she put her empty palm before her, facing up, and held the blade to it. She took a deep breath and quickly drew the blade across her hand, slicing her palm open. Bri gasped with pain but continued her chanting. Blood welled up, pooled, spilled over, and continued to well up. Bri put down the razor and cupped her hand, ever chanting, allowing the blood to slowly fill her hand.

God help me for I cannot help myself, Bri prayed, and quickly drank the blood.

Her throat burned, and she coughed as she finished her chanting, getting blood on the headstone. He face was wet in places with a bloody handprint. The wraiths wailed, Shadow rejoiced, her stomach churned…

…And then, after barely thirty minutes, her ritual was over. Shadow, fed and happy, settled into semi-dormancy. The wraiths quieted to the usual murmur. The cemetery grew quiet and still once more. It wasn't until then that Bri allowed herself to cry.

She hated this, having to run away from home every few months just to sate Shadow's bloodlust. The ritual never seriously hurt her, yet it left her miserable. Normal kids didn't have these problems, so why did she? Was she evil? Was she inhuman? Had her soul been sold to the Devil? She didn't know.

But she did know she could never tell anyone about her ritual or Shadow. She had a hard enough time fitting in, what with being an albino and being smart and an orphan and all else. She didn't need to add one more to the list. Even her three closest friends hadn't the slightest idea she had a daemon in her body.

Stop crying child, Shadow whispered in her head.

"Shut up!" she cried. "Shut up, shut up! I hate you!"

You hate what you have yet to understand.

"I shouldn't HAVE to understand! A six year old shouldn't have to give their blood to feed a daemon!" Shadow didn't answer, instead Bri felt arms, warm yet cold, hold her, giving her comfort. This ghost often came when Bri was upset, holding her but never speaking. Nevertheless, Bri welcomed the kindly spirit as a child would it's mother, slowly cleaning her razor and bandaging her hand.

CRACK. Bri sat bolt upright.

"Who's there?" She called, snatching up her razor and putting her things away hastily. She looked around, heart pounding.

A figure, half-hidden in the trees. Bri leapt up as it began to come toward her.

"Get away!" She yelled, backing toward the exit, leaving behind her mess of paint and blood. The figure kept coming. Bri stuffed her razor in her pocket and jumped the low iron fence. She heard the figure run after her. She ran as hard as her legs could carry her, past bars, strip clubs, shops, and karaoke joints until she reached Star of Hope. She ducked thru the gate, the front door, dashed up the stairs and to her room, locking everything as she went. She waited a minute, then two, three. She heard nothing. She wasn't being followed by the man, or anyone for that matter.

Bri relaxed; she was safe. She went to the bathroom and washed the blood and paint off of her. He felt much better now, and wasn't as caught up in pity. Shadow wasn't that bad, he was great at protecting her - how else but could she have survived the car accident if Shadow hadn't yanked her out of the way? And now that she was clean and safe, with Shadow and the wraiths quit, she could sleep and have a normal day in the morning.

Scritch, scratch, scritch, scratch. Bri groaned; that damn branch outside her room was going to keep her up all night - again! - if it kept clawing at her window pane. Irked, Bri opened her window to break off the offending stick so she could sleep.

Before she knew what was happening, a hand holding a cloth shot through her window, covering her mouth and nose. Bri struggled as the form that had chased her seized her and fought to keep her still. A chemical smell filled her senses. Bri wondered how he knew where she lived, which room was hers, and how he had even got up to her.

And then her world went black.


	9. Chapter 9

When Pendergast and D'agosta arrived at Star of Hope the next morning to break the new to Bri (and face the reaction to follow), the last thing they expected was for the place to be crawling with police. Pendergast parked and leapt out of the Rolls, D'agosta hot on his heels.

"FBI," Pendergast showed his badge to the female Lieutenant on duty. "What happened?"

"A child was kidnapped, sir," she answered. "We've determined it to be the same man who's been kidnapping kids all week do to the ingress: he got in through her bedroom window. We're not sure how he got up there yet, or how he got her down."

Pendergast went slightly paler than usual. "You said 'her'…"

"Yes sir; a six year old girl with pale skin, white-blond hair and light blue eyes. Her friends last saw her wearing an oversized Black Sabbath concert tee."

"Bridgid…" D'agosta choked. Pendergast thanked the woman and hurried past, looking left and right, until he found a frantic Miss Nancy surrounded by officers who were taking statements.

"Miss Nancy?" Pendergast brushed past the cops with a flash of his badge.

"Agent!" she cried, nearly hugging Pendergast. "I'm so- I don't know how-"

"Miss Nancy, please calm down," Pendergast said, putting his hands on the woman's shoulders. "Now, what happened?"

"I didn't notice anything strange all night," Miss Nancy said shakily. "Everyone came downstairs at their usual times - by now the kids sleep patterns are like clockwork - but hours passed and Bri didn't come down."

"What time does she usually wake up?" D'agosta asked.

"8:30. It was 10:45 when Shaun went up to check on her. He ran back down and said Bri was gone, that her window was open. I immediately called the police."

"Sir," an officer spoke up. "An officer with a K-9 unit went with the three kids, Austin, Shaun and Derrick, to find the missing girl. The teens are supposed to take him everywhere that she would go."

"Good," Pendergast said. Suddenly there was the sound of barking, and the group came running up to them.

"Officer, you have to see this!" Derrick gasped, out of breath.

"What?" Pendergast asked.

"Hello Agent," Austin said. "We showed Officer Moor where Bri would ordinarily go, and sudden the dog picked up a scent. It lead us to the Cemetery and… sir, we don't know what to make of it. But Bri was there. The dog was going crazy, there's blood all over!"

"Blood?" The officer asked.

"Blood! Come see!" Pendergast, D'agosta, and the officer, minus the dog, followed the kids away from the orphanage, up Bourbon street, and to St. Louis Cemetery. They slipped through the gates and soon came upon a sight that both confused them, and ran their blood cold. A day-old grave had been desecrated; the stone was splattered with blood, which also covered splotches on the ground. A greasy black 'X' had been painted onto the stone with what seemed to be a child's hand. In the dirt there were impressions of hands, knees, legs, and the vague shape of a small body, as though a child had lain there.

It didn't take a genius to figure it out who had been there.

"Did Bri always perform Voodoo Blood Rituals?" The officers asked.

"Blood… Rituals…?" Shaun asked looking nervous.

"No!" Austin cried. He looked flustered and afraid. "Bri… she never said ANYTHING about Voodoo or blood rituals or anything like that! The closest thing to the occult she liked was death metal bands!"

"So Bri sneaks out in the middle of the night, performs this… ritual… and then walks home," D'agosta said, trying to keep up with the timeline.

"It would seem so, but…" Pendergast knelt, looking at the dirt impressions. He pointed to one. "Look at this; the impression is smudged as though she sat up quickly." The agent traced more marks, careful not to touch them. "She jumped to her feet then took off running." The agent stood and followed the angle of the marks, the others following behind him. He got to the fence and pointed to white scuffs in the black paint and on the sidewalk beyond. "She jumped the fence and kept running, presumably all the way back to the orphanage. But why did she RUN from here? We can assume she may have been chased. And who could have chased her? Possibly the same person who kidnapped her. So she gets to the orphanage, runs inside, gets to her room, and probably cleans up any blood on her. At some point she's lured to the window, likely opens it of her own will and is kidnapped from there." Derrick whistled.

"Damn, he's good," the teenager whispered to his friends, who could only nod in their flabbergasted state.

"You figured this all out from dirt impressions and shoe scuffs?" The officer asked in amazement.

"It is not difficult if you know what to look for. However, this is mostly a theory based off of what seemed most likely from the evidence here," Pendergast replied, causally straightening his tie.

"A theory is better than nothing," D'agosta remarked. "But how do we find Bri?"

"Let's get back to the orphanage., I want a better look at where she was kidnapped." The officer nodded and lead them back out. Pendergast's face was intense, and D'agosta could see n his eyes that the agent was not going to stop until his baby girl was safe again.


	10. Chapter 10

Bri's brain was mash pit slam-dancing against her skull as she woke up. Her tongue tasted of chemicals and her skin felt dirty. She was so out of it she couldn't move her arms or legs. Everything around her was pitch black, and for a moment she wondered if she had even opened her eyes. She blinked; no, they were open, and she wasn't blindfolded, the room she was in was simply darker than moonless night. As her mind cleared, she began to remember the night in the cemetery, and all that had happened after. She had been chloroformed and hauled off. Bri groaned, and tried not to think about how feeble and helpless her voice sounded in the blackness. She felt a wall behind her, made of hard dirt or rock. She tried to move her limbs and found enough strength to move her leg. Yet when she did, the other came with it, and the same happened with her arms.

_Christ, I'm tied up._ Bri thought. A whimper of fear rose to her lips, but she stubbornly held it back. _I won't cry. But I will be honest with myself: Bridgid, honey, you are up shit creek without a paddle._ Shadow rose from his dormancy, his dry whispers swirling in her mind.

_Don't let your guard down, child, _he hissed softly. _Do not panic. Neither will aid you._

"Oh yeah?" Bri pouted. "And just what do you expect me to do, tied up in a dirt hole? Besides, your meal ticket might be about to be killed, and I don't see you helping." Shadow rose from his home in her soul and appeared before her, a purple-black figure with no distinguishing features, which was how he got the name 'Shadow'.

"Things would be much easier on you, young one, if you would simply learn to trust me," he said, his voice now smoother and more human. Bri frowned.

"Again, why should I trust you?" Shadow made a vague movement that looked like he was shaking his hand.

"Have I ever harmed you, in the six years you have been alive?"

"The blood is harm enough."

"My need for your blood isn't out of harm. But I am unable to explain until you ask. Such is the law of my existence." Bri sighed.

"Fine. Why do you need my blood? And for that matter who and what are you?" Bri sensed Shadow smile as he sat in front of her. With nothing to do but trust Shadow, Bri listened to him as he began explaining.


	11. Chapter 11

**A New Light Ch 11**

By I loveBumbleBee2009

Miss Nancy lead D'agosta and Pendergast upstairs, past several doors, some opened, some not, and stopped at the only one with crime scene tape around it.

"This is Bri's room. Pardon the slight mess," Miss Nancy opened the door - the knob covered with plastic - and the three walked in. Bri's room was so colorful it looked like someone had ingested a 120-count Crayola set and them vomited it up all over her room. The carpet was sand-colored, the walls were white, but Bri's world shone through with a vengeance. The walls were covered with posters and pictures of everything from cartoons to famous actors to the kids in the orphanage. A bookshelf was full of DVDs and books of almost every genre, though Pendergast noticed that most of them were of the horror and slasher variety. The floor had funky rugs on it, the bed was messy, the headboard covered in neon colored paint, and had T-shirt pillows and a quilt. On one wall was a rack of collectors skateboards. Knickknacks, toys and stuffed creatures littered the floor, desk and dresser. The radio was open and inside was a Michael Jackson CD, and the CD rack on the floor had another three dozen CDs of Black Sabbath, Metallica, Seether, Elvis Presley, and others. The window was open, and near the window was a handful of evidence tags. The open door to a connected mini-bath showed a dozen more.

_Just as I had imagined…_Pendergast thought. He walked over to the window, careful not to bump anything and risk damaging the crime scene. Outside, Pendergast noticed a tall tree with thick branches that could easily reach the wall, with one right under the window. Crouched down, it would be easy to remain out of sight. Smaller twigs almost poked through the window.

"Did Bridgid ever complain of the tree branches scratching at her window?" Pendergast asked.

"Actually, yes." Pendergast looked closely at a few twigs. Several had knobs where the branch had been previously broken or cut. "I believe I know how our kidnapper got Bri."

"How?" D'agosta asked. Pendergast beckoned them to the window.

"The branch under this window is thick enough to likely support the average man. These branches scratch at the window, which probably disturbs Bri's sleep. He follows Bri home from the cemetery, climbs into the tree - perhaps he had been watching Bri for a time to know this was her room - and either made the branch scratch at her window or lets the wind do that. Bri comes to the window to break the branch and get some sleep, thus opening her window. The man chloroforms her when she leans out of the window, and then carries her off." Pendergast explained.

"My God…" Miss Nancy breathed, hardly believing that this could happen to Bri, who had never started trouble in her life. D'agosta gently escorted Miss Nancy back to the main room.

"Lieutenant!" called an officer, running in. "Where is Agent Pendergast? You won't believe our luck!" D'agosta brought the man to Pendergast, who was prowling about Bri's room, an odd look on his face. He looked up as they came in.

"Is something he matter?" Pendergast asked, his face tight.

"Agent, you wont believe this! Just now I got a call from an officer at the hospital. A young girl was brought in. She's not Bridgid, but she IS a victim of the kidnapper, she's alive and she knows where Bridgid would be!"

Pendergast looked shocked. His voice was strained as he spoke. "We need to get there. NOW." And without another word, the three hurried from the room.


	12. Chapter 12

Bri looked up as she heard the sound of a heavy door creaking open, Shadow disappearing into her body. A bright shaft of light shone in from high on the ceiling on the far side of he room, which was smaller than Bri thought. As she blinked against the painful light, she faintly heard the sounds of insects and soft lapping water. The air smelled damp and earthy, with a slight hint of rotted wood. A swamp?

"Time to wake up, Daemon Child…" slurred a man's voice, his accent thicker than any Bri had ever heard. She could barely make out his silhouette; tall and heavily muscular. Shadow stirred in her heart almost nervously.

_Shadow…?_ Bri said mentally.

_Be careful, child. This man is dangerous. I will come up with a plan to help you escape, but you must be cautious until then. _Bri mentally nodded and but on her best innocent look.

"'Daemon Child?' I don't know what a Daemon is." she lied. She forced herself to stay calm; this guy was no better than the assholes from uptown who always pushed on her and her friends. The man growled.

"Do you think I'm stupid? I heard you, _princeau_, talking to your Spirit Guardian. You have the power I need." Bri growled, eyes narrowing angrily.

"Don't call me _princeau_…" she spat. She _hated_ being called that. The man smirked at her.

"The time you were in control has long passed, little girl. Now, you do as _I_ tell you." Bri noticed something large in the mans hands; a glass beaker-shaped container, with something dark inside it. As the man stalked towards her, the light behind him glinted through the glass, making the dark liquid turn a dark ruby color.

It was blood.


End file.
